A Chance Meeting
by WoahThereLassie
Summary: My first story! This is just a cute little OneShot about Seymour's first meeting with Audrey. It's written from Seymour's POV, and he is a little flustered! Hope you enjoy it! Rated K for ONE bad word.


'_Not working, not working, not working…'_

Seymour fussed with some wilting daisies, trying to spring some life back into them. He tried watering them, feeding them, spraying them, moving their light source… what ELSE could he do? Nothing was working!

'_Not living, not living, not living…!'_

He had started to panic. Mrs. Malone would be there any minute to pick up the daisies that he had neglected to water and care for during the past few days. The lack of customers had really become a distraction. Mr. Mushnik, the owner of Skid Row Florists and Seymour's boss, would come in almost every night drunk, and wake up almost every morning with a terrible "sickness," and conveniently couldn't work. Seymour would not sleep for days at a time, just because the waiting had become so torturous and tedious and terrible. He had even begun to think in alliteration.

'_I'm going to get fired, I'm going to get fired…'_

"I'M GOING TO GET FIRED!"

Seymour ended up yelling out his thoughts in sheer frustration and dread.

"WHO'S GOING TO GET FIRED?" cried (or rather, slurred) Gravis Mushnik from the other room. "IF IT'S ANYONE, IT BETTER BE YOU, YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, LOUSY, USELESS PILE OF JUNK!"

"Y-yes, Mister Mushnik, sir!"

The shop assistant hurriedly focused his attention onto the dying daisies. His eyes darted about behind his glasses as he tried to find something, ANYTHING that could be used as a remedy. A tonic, a spray, maybe a potion? Sweat started to pour down his cheeks as Mister Mushnik's bellows grew louder in his ears. His clothes were sticking uncomfortably to his body. Why were his shoes feeling so small; why are his feet growing? There were now three, four, six bunches of daisies shifting in and out of Seymour's focus as he wrenched his tie up and down and nervously clutched at a bottle of tonic to pour on all seven… eight of them! It was all so frustrating, and the pressure was surely going to make him burst! He was going to explo-

DING!

The bell over the shop's door rang loud, and both Seymour and Mushnik gave cries of surprise. Seymour's attention snapped back into reality as he looked up to see if Mrs. Malone was angry that her daisies had been killed.

But it wasn't Mrs. Malone in the doorway, it was somebody else. Somebody new.

Somebody… beautiful.

There was a woman standing in the doorway. No. Woman is an understatement. She was too perfect to be a woman! She was the most beautiful thing Seymour had ever laid his eyes on. Suddenly, all the sounds of the street and Mushnik's angry shouts about the noisy bell seemed to melt behind him. Lips that he forgot he possessed began to curve into a grin; it was possibly the biggest grin he had ever managed to bear in his life. All of the feeling in his arms had been lost.

Golly, who is she? What's her name? What does her voice sound like? What do her hands feel like?

Seymour lifted his own hands to try and get rid of the desire to hold her hand, and dropped the pot of daisies he had been holding.

SMASH!

"Oh, dear! Are you alright, sir?"

The voice of an angel!

Don't let her see you think that. You look stupid! Say something!

"I- well, it's a… it was only a… that was… a pot."

"Yes, and I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have startled you like that, that was completely uncalled for, me bursting in like that… Really, I can't apologize enough! Do you need help cleaning it?"

"No, no, really… it was… that was… a pot."

"Oh, gosh, the perfect way to start a job interview!" she said, absentmindedly.

"J-job? You mean, you want to WORK here?" Seymour had never been more delighted in his career at the little shop. "You really want to work here?"

"Oh, yes, I'd love to," she said, sighing. "I just love you- eh, I mean, your FLOWER arrangements," she quickly added, "and I would love to learn how to make them, and keep flowers alive."

"Golly, that sounds great!" Seymour cried, probably a bit too quickly and a bit too happily. He caught himself. "I mean, I could set you up a position with Mister Mushnik, my boss… I promise, you'll start tomorrow!"

The woman's face lit up. "Oh, really? Can you do that? That'd be… amazing! Simply wonderful!"

Seymour had never felt more confident in his entire life. He felt so fantastic, making this woman smile.

"I can't wait to start, you don't know how badly I need this job! Thank you! Oh, if we're going to be working together, what's your name?"

"My-my-my name? You… you mean… MY name?"

Any confidence Seymour had disappeared. The woman giggled.

"Yes, silly! Should I call you Mr. Something? Or just…?" she trailed off.

'_Come on, old boy, tell her your name! What IS your name? Have you forgotten?! You really are useless! You have to know your own NAME! Oh my God, WHAT IS MY NAME?!'_

"M-m-my name? It's K-Krelbourn." _'DAMNIT!'_ "No, NO! SEYMOUR Krelbourn, not just plain Krelbourn! But just call me Seymour. If you feel comfortable with that."

'_You're STUPID, STPUID, STUPID!'_

"That's such a marvelous name! Well, I'm Audrey. Audrey Fulquard, but please call me Audrey! Well, thanks so much for the job and such- I'll see you tomorrow, Seymour!"

And she danced out of the little shop.

Seymour had never loved his name so much in his life.

In fact, as soon as she left, all he could think about was Audrey saying his name. And him saying her name. And her just talking in general. In fact, AUDREY was the only thing on his mind for the rest of the day. Mr. Mushnik had even come in twice and tried to have a conversation with Seymour, but Seymour did not respond, because he was so wrapped up in his thoughts. Mrs. Malone finally showed up and had a screeching fit about her daisies being dead and on the ground, and Seymour just left the room- he didn't even notice she had been there.

Audrey's coming to work tomorrow!


End file.
